


Tell me the truth.

by ConvenientAlias



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, Misunderstandings, Threats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 10:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16973262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConvenientAlias/pseuds/ConvenientAlias
Summary: Erik tells the Daroga to stay away from Raoul de Chagny. The Daroga intends to do so only until he can figure out how to appease Erik. Things get a little out of hand.





	Tell me the truth.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [generalsleepy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/generalsleepy/gifts).



Hamid’s been going with the young Vicomte for more than two months when Erik decides he has a problem with it. Why it takes him that long to notice, Hamid doesn’t know. He just knows when Erik’s ire does fall upon him, because it’s not exactly subtle. It’s Erik waylaying him in a hallway and dragging him off into the tunnels for “a talk.”

“I thought you said you didn’t want me coming down here anymore.”

Erik doesn’t even bother giving him a look.

“You’re inconsistent.” Hamid folds his arms and leans against a wall. There’s still a fucking noose around his neck—Erik wasn’t exactly gentle about getting him down here—but for some reason he feels like if he acknowledges the rope’s existence he’ll legitimize it, so he’s not removing it. He also isn’t sure what will set Erik off. Heck, he isn’t sure what’s set Erik off enough to attack him tonight to begin with.

“I am giving you a warning,” Erik says after a moment.

“You could have warned me before—”

“Don’t pretend to be offended, daroga. If you weren’t used to the way I work, you would long ago be dead.”

_And you’d be dead too, if I didn’t care enough to save your sorry ass_ , Hamid doesn’t say. “Actually I am…”

“I am warning you to stay away from the Vicomte de Chagny,” Erik says.

Hamid blinks.

“I know you two have been getting close,” Erik continues. “Sharing boxes in the opera, stealing kisses when no one is looking…really it’s childish but I suppose you enjoy yourself as you wish. However, it is no longer wise. You may find yourself another lover.”

“Oh—” Hamid’s temper flares. “—may I?”

Erik now does give him a look, short and contemptuous.

“You can’t be jealous. You’ve never given the vicomte a second look, don’t pretend you have, and we’re… Anyhow it’s a bit late to try and intervene, isn’t it? I’ve been courting the vicomte for…”

“Courting?” Erik snorts. “Oh, come on… And I didn’t think I’d have to _intervene_ , because I thought you would have ended it long ago. We know you aren’t exactly one for monogamy.”

“I am perfectly capable of it.”

“Well, I know that now. But be monogamous with someone else. The Vicomte de Chagny is not a wise choice, and from now on you are to stay far away. Do you understand?”

“I don’t take orders from you, Erik.”

“I am not ordering you to do anything,” Erik says. “I am just warning you. You’re the one who prefers me not to commit murder.” He turns away. “Do as you wish.”

* * *

 

Hamid breaks his date with Raoul that night.

It’s not, he tells himself, that he’s afraid of Erik or what Erik says. But his fight with Erik has left him with a couple scratches, and his coat is a mess. He’s not in a fit state to sit through an opera with Raoul, surrounded by the denizens of high society. Raoul can do without him for a night. He goes home to his apartment where Darius patches up the scratches and he sends the coat off to a tailor for repairs. He sends Raoul a note of apology.

He doesn’t mention the encounter with Erik. It’s not…He doesn’t _ever_ mention Erik to Raoul, Raoul doesn’t even know that they talk to each other. Erik sees his interactions with Hamid as privileged, private, and Hamid has always treated them as such. Even if this one is a bit beyond the pale, it’s still…

It feels wrong to tell Raoul about it, so he doesn’t.

But that doesn’t mean he’s listening to Erik. It doesn’t. He’s not afraid of Erik. He even goes and meets Raoul two days later, at the park. They go for a walk, and they talk, and they kiss behind trees, and it’s all very fun. They chat about opera gossip and the one to bring the opera ghost up is Raoul.

“They say he knocked over a set piece yesterday. The ballerinas were in hysterics. Did you hear about that?”

“I don’t hear about absolutely everything, Raoul.”

“Sorry. You seemed very omniscient when I first met you. Actually it makes me feel a bit smug when I can tell you things,” Raoul says. “But in any case, Christine says it may well have been the opera ghost. She seems a little nervous lately.” He sighs. “She’s so superstitious.”

Raoul has all the carelessness of a boy who’s old enough to know that nothing lurks beneath his bed but not yet old enough to be careful of dark alleys. Usually Hamid finds that certainty endearing, but today he finds it more than a little troubling.

“Hamid? Is something wrong?”

“The opera ghost is more than a superstition,” Hamid says. “You really should be careful in the opera house, Raoul.”

“You too, Hamid? Well, I never…”

Hamid doesn’t mean to let Erik’s warnings, or his threats, rather, sway him. He’s not afraid. Erik has hurt him before, and he can never hurt him too badly, not with their history. But. But Erik sometimes does hurt other people, people who get too close.

“ _Sometimes_ ” might be an understatement.

Maybe, Hamid thinks, it’s better if he does back off. Just a little. Just for now. Just until he figures out what’s going on with Erik and fixes it, and then he and Raoul can go back to normal, and everything will be fine. But. Maybe, just for a little.

He doesn’t go to the opera that weekend for their usual date. And the next week, when Raoul sends him invitations first to accompany him to a dinner party and then just for a walk along the Seine, he declines, saying he’s ill.

It’s the same excuse as last week, but it’s a classic, and it’s polite. And Raoul isn’t too pushy. He’ll take the hint.

* * *

 

He can’t figure out what is eating Erik just by hearsay, so he goes to the opera house, into the tunnels. He can’t find Erik lurking, though, and he’s too cautious of the lake to swim out to Erik’s house anymore. And when he leaves the tunnels and makes his exit from the opera house, he runs straight into Raoul.

They always used to run into each other by accident here, back before they really knew each other. _Serendipity_ , Hamid would call it. Today, though, it is genuine bad luck.

“Hamid! Then you’re better,” Raoul says. He pulls Hamid into a hug, tighter than usual. He smells of something flowery, maybe lavender—a scent that Hamid has missed, even though it’s only been a week. “I’m so glad—my friend,” he adds quickly. Philippe is walking with them and is already giving them a Look. “We’re here for the night show. You might join us in our box, if you like…”

Usually Hamid and Raoul share Hamid’s box, but usually Raoul doesn’t have a brother in tow, because usually they arrange these things ahead of time, because usually Hamid isn’t actively avoiding Raoul and is, instead, trying to spend time with him. The lavender scent is tempting.

Philippe says, “We’d be pleased,” and Hamid is caught.

Of course he can’t pay any attention to the show itself. Probably the singing is excellent. But he’s thinking about Raoul’s eyes on him, and how his expression alternates: Sometimes intent on the action onstage, sometimes undeniably pleased, sometimes a little bit nervous. And when he meets Hamid’s eyes, he smiles, but a little stiffly, and Hamid is worried.

Philippe isn’t watching, so he puts a hand on Raoul’s leg to calm him down. Raoul stiffens in a whole new way and Hamid can’t help but tease him a little bit, squeezing his thigh and inching his hand up just a little further. Not too much, of course, they aren’t alone. And then it’s intermission.

Hamid wants to take Raoul off to a private corner and show him how much he’s been missed. But they’re at the opera house, Erik’s opera house, and he’s risked enough already. So he tells Philippe and Raoul both, “It’s been lovely, but I really must be going.”

“The show is only an hour longer,” Raoul protests.

“Urgent business,” Hamid says. “I had forgotten. Well, I’m sure I will see you two again.” He leaves without looking back. The person he _has_ to see is Erik, and Erik is avoiding him just as he’s avoiding Raoul, and it’s driving him round the bend.

Raoul sends him a letter, a proper letter. Longer than the notes. “ _I missed you_ ,” it says. And, “ _What was the urgent business_?” And, “ _Tell me you’re feeling better. You still seemed off last time, a little tense. Maybe that’s just because Philippe was there—I know it made me tense, him sitting there while you were right next to me. You make me feel all kinds of things Philippe shouldn’t know about, and when you touched my leg like that, you knew exactly what you were doing to me. But even if you’d gone further_ …”

And, of course, just like in the notes, “ _When can I see you again_?”

Hamid doesn’t bother to send an answer this time. He doesn’t have an answer. Raoul will just have to wait.

But Raoul is not a very patient person. And when two weeks pass with no contact, he shows up on Hamid’s doorstep and demands to be let in.

* * *

 

“No, I don’t want tea,” Raoul says brusquely. “I want to talk.”

Hamid sits. Raoul stands, defiantly, but fuck, he’s not going to stand for this conversation. Just the sight of Raoul’s face makes him feel exhausted. “Yes, dear?”

“It’s been three weeks.”

“Two weeks. We met at…”

“We both know you didn’t mean to meet me there, and it wasn’t…look, I just…”

“Calm down, Raoul,” Hamid says. “I’ve been busy. I’m sorry I didn’t answer your letters, but I didn’t know when I’d be free. I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy with what?”

Hamid doesn’t want to lie to him. “Oh, boring things. You wouldn’t want to know all the details.”

Raoul says, “Hamid. Look me in the eyes.”

Hamid does so. “Yes?”

Raoul is trembling. “Just…tell me the truth.”

“What truth?”

Raoul shrugs, a brief spasm. “I don’t know! That you’ve had enough. That I don’t… That I’m not good enough for you anymore, that you aren’t happy. Just… just tell me, all right? I know you’re kind but I promise you it won’t hurt more than this.”

He still smells like lavender. It’s a smell Hamid wishes would linger in his flat, or on his clothing. He sighs.

Raoul storms closer. “Just _tell_ me,” he says, and his face crumples into something ugly and he collapses on his knees, pushing his head onto Hamid’s lap. Hamid strokes his hair because he isn’t sure what else to do.

“I can’t tell you that,” he says. “It wouldn’t be true. You make me…”

And then he’s crying too.

_Old fool_ , he thinks savagely. It was the perfect chance to cut things off with Raoul and keep him safe from Erik, and maybe that would be wise. But he can’t do it. Even if they’ll both be hurt worse later on, he can’t.

“You make me happy,” he sobs. Some part of him is perfectly aware of how ridiculous he sounds, and is detached enough to feel embarrassment. But his lips press against Raoul’s forehead on autopilot, and he pulls himself together enough to lever Raoul up from the floor and kiss his lips instead.

He hasn’t had enough. Not yet. Not yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt of Daraoulga and "just look me in the eye and tell the truth! tell me you’ve had enough! tell me i don’t make you happy anymore! tell me so we can cut the pain short.”  
> Idk if I was supposed to actually break them up but?? no?? I refuse, Daraoulga for life.  
> Anyways I hope you enjoyed :) comments and kudos are welcome, or come talk to me on tumblr at convenientalias.


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